Little Moments
by violetnovice
Summary: One shots and drabbles centred around Yumikuri/Yumihisu. These include both AU oneshots and Canon one shots, but the AU chapters will have an asterisk next to their names. I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin nor any characters in it. Caution: This ranges from fluff to angst, but mostly fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The song for this fic is The Hour, from The Last of Us's beautiful soundtrack**

* * *

"Ymir?" She whispered, her voice hanging in the muffled darkness.

I grumbled sleepily and moved aside.

"Get your ass in before you freeze to death." I mumbled as she climbed inside the cot. Good thing she was so fucking tiny, or the both of us would never have fit.

She curled up against my back and relaxed.

"... 'Night, midget."

"Good night, Ymir."

I turned around after a while and slipped my arm around her, tugging her a little closer and inhaling her scent. She was already asleep. I reminded myself that it was selfish to lie to her about who I really was, and that we might never get a chance and here I was indulging in my selfish pleasures, but at that moment I didn't care.

The door creaked slightly and I shrugged off my quilts, sitting up, squinting from the ray of moonlight shining through the crack in the door. I was looking directly into Sasha's eyes.

 _Oh. Oh shit._

She gaped at me and Christa in the same cot. I was pretty sure the implications of that were already crossing her mind.

I looked down pointedly at the stolen chunk of meat she was holding.

She followed my gaze, and flushed a violent, tomato red.

We engaged in an awkward staring contest for about a minute, until she broke eye contact.

Sasha turned on her heel, and then I heard her cot creak.

I re-arranged myself in the thin, practically useless army issue quilts and tried to concentrate on sleeping. So much for secrecy.

The next morning, in the mess hall, Sasha kept on sneaking looks at me and Christa and wiggling her eyebrows. I kept on making throat slitting motions behind Christa's back.


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon 'Storia, hurry!" Ymir tugged at my arm eagerly. I laugh at the grin stretching over her dorky face.

"This has to be the most immature thing you've ever come up with." I complain, my breath hissing out into white puffs. Her eyes, that beautiful fiery amber, light up as she smirks. "Annie'll be so pissed she'll pop an artery." She says gleefully, and I let her pull me into the hipster coffee shop. Immediately, the scent of coffee and cheesy Christmas music washes over me. Doesn't hurt to humour her. Especially when she smiles like that. We get into line, and it's our turn soon. Annie stares at us from behind the counter, not bothering to mask her boredom.

"Are you here two here to be gayer than usual?"

"So, my sun and stars." Ymir grins. "What do you want?"

"Just the peppermint green tea special, moon of my life." I smile up at Ymir. Annie sees the set up coming and groans.

"I'm going to have black coffee. To go." Ymir decides.

"... Names?" Annie mutters.

"Ah yes, of course." The shit eating grin spreads wider over her face. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo's riders, and queen to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros." She finishes with a dramatic flourish, drawing herself up to her full height. I can't help but giggle at the expression on Annie's face.

"Just put Historia for me." I feel sort of bad for Annie. Ymir's been coming here with ridiculous names to make her write on our cups for the past week. Levi, her strict boss, had insisted that she had to write it because of company policy.

"One peppermint green tea special for the Goddess and a black coffee for Asshat. Anything else?" Ymir laughs, loud and infectious.

"Hey, your fault for giving me a book about frickin' hobbit murder and politics."

"Did you guys even comprehend the bloody end to Drogo and Daenerys' forced and unhealthy relationship? Never mind, I don't want to know." Annie sighs as she finishes jotting down our order.

"Annie, just because you date my niece doesn't mean you can be rude to customers." Levi calls from the far side of the shop. Annie gave her patented Ice Queen eye roll and tears the receipt from the machine.

"Nine twenty five." Ymir curses under her breath when searching her wallet for change. It's little moments like this that makes me feel oddly warm inside. She looks so concentrated and it's adorable the way her eyebrows scrunch together. Then, something occurs to me and my smile spreads. She notices me looking at her and pauses as Annie taps her foot impatiently.

"What?" I smile up at my beautiful dork.

"Nothing." She raises an eyebrow quizzically, but doesn't question it as she dumps an assortment of bills and change onto the counter. Annie counts the money and I accept the change, following Ymir to the table in the corner. I reach for her hand and entangle our fingers together under the table.

"So Ymir, if I'm your sun and stars and you're my moon, does that mean we can get married now?" She flinches suddenly and flushes a violent red as I watch, amused.

"Ah... I forgot about that bit." She mutters. I lean over to give her a quick kiss.

"I think we should probably give Annie a break or Mikasa will give us hell."

"I'll concede to that." Then her lean, handsome features stretches into a smirk. "Also, 'Ria, my love... I don't think I would mind particularly if we were engaged." It's my turn to blush, slightly, and she lets an easy, dreamy smile stretch across her face. I know I'm mirroring the same lovestruck expression on my own face as I stare back, and even though we've only been dating for two months, I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.


	3. Chapter 3

I sigh as I look at the empty spot besides me. It's a lazy Friday morning, and we don't have any classes, so that means she must still be at home. She's always been a morning person. She crashes at night, but she's adorable when she's sleepy and likes to use my lap as a pillow. so I don't complain when she wakes me up at insane hours. Groggily, I shove off the quilts and stumble out of the bedroom.

I smile as I spot Historia, already up and cooking something at the stove. I take a deep breath. Scrambled eggs. Wow. Our small table was already set with cups of water set carefully on napkins.

"Sometimes I'm not sure I deserve you." I murmur, padding across the cool tile of our kitchen floor and gently sliding my arms around her waist, pressing against her. Warmth blossoms in my chest. She leans back and smiles up at me.

"Finally up?" I smirk into her hair, lazily kissing her earlobe.

"I recall you kept me up for quite some time last night." She laughs, light and airy and so beautiful my heart aches. My grin only stretches further.

"What better way to start the year?"

"I can't argue with that." I watch her expertly flip the eggs over in awe. They looked fluffy and weren't sticking to the pan at all. "Will you teach me how to do that?"

"Are you serious, babe?" She takes a step back, about to try reach for the cupboards but I do it for her. Handing her a plate, I carefully observe the ease with which she slides the steaming eggs onto the plate.

"If I bring you breakfast in bed, I want you to enjoy something better than a charred lump." I'd tried to make her pancakes once, and ended up taking her out for Italian later as an apology for the look of horror on her face when she woke up to the sight of burnt lumps of batter all over the kitchen.

"You're so sweet at times. And don't roll your eyes, I know you're going to."

"Hmph." I scoff instead. Reluctantly, I let go of her, and my front suddenly seems freezing cold. She divides the eggs in half with a fork and I grab yet another plate for her. She turns around and smiles at me again, her beautiful blue eyes alight with mirth. Maybe my heart melts a little in that moment, but I recover in a second. A few seconds. A minute. Never.

"See? You always do things like that for me. You're a huge softie and I'm onto you." She teases, poking me in the cheek.

"More like you're into me." I drawl, sliding into the seat at the kitchen table across from her. She'd even set the table. "And you're so insanely short it's rude not to help. I mean like, maybe it was normal during the medieval ages, when there was nutrition deficiencies, but shit has drastically improved since then."

"Mmmhmm. You're as soft as a marshmallow." She takes a stab at the eggs and twirls the fork thoughtfully. "Maybe softer."

"Bullshit." She takes a sip of water and I can't help sneaking a look at her still slightly bruised lips. She catches me looking. She always does. I hastily take a gulp of water from my own glass.

"Almost forgot to make it official." I clear my throat. "Happy New Years, 'Ria."

"Happy New Years, 'Mir."

"May I spend the rest of my years with you." I murmur. She blushes.

"You're a softie." I open my mouth, about to make a sarcastic comment, but then she leans across the table and kisses me, and I completely lose my train of thought. When she pulls away for air, my head's spinning, my lips tingle, and she's giggling at my slack jawed expression. I grin back across the table.

 _I wouldn't mind at all if the rest of our mornings are exactly like this._


End file.
